Nicotine
by CassanderRoshack
Summary: Dirk Strider has been convicted of first degree murder of the serial killer. Though he saved other lives and suffered at the hand, the judge couldn't claim she believed entirely that he didn't have a personal vendetta involved with the killing. He accepted his fate without fight, and now has to deal with being in the privately owned maximum security prison. Sequel to Spectrum.
1. Nothing Left To Say

"Prisoner 413, step up to the yellow line, turn to face the camera and do not make any sudden movements." The man on the other side of the glass droned. Dirk stepped in without anyone else, one side of the room being glass. The other side being a white wall with tick marks in it for height. He frowned looking up at it, seeing he was near six feet two inches before turning to face the camera. "Don't smile, make any hand gestures, or gang symbols." The voice continued through a small voice box in front of the glass. There was a speaker in one hand and a button to press in the other. In a split second the camera flashed and he was blinded for almost a minute. "Is there a problem, 413?" Dirk swallowed before shaking his head, "No, I have photophobia." The guard snorted, "Make sure to tell the intake officer that." Dirk nodded squinting his eyes as he walked to the next door on the other side of the room. They had took his mugshot and he saw it briefly on a reflection of the glass. His eyes were bright unsettlingly neon burnt orange. He still looked like shit, but somehow that was comforting to him that at least he didn't _look _like a threat. The guards took him by the arms once more, walking him to the next area for his intake.

After the court case deciding if the murder of the serial killer Nathanial Morris was self-defense on his part had gone terribly wrong, he had been transported for the longest time until they opened the doors to take out Daniel Clemons, Nathanial's half-brother. The one's transporting them hadn't said a word to where they were going but at the time, Dirk hadn't really cared. They had shut the doors again in Dirk's face, resuming the long car ride before reopening them to take him into a drop off area for prisoners. The building was tall, long, gray, and had bars on every single window he could see. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out where he was. There was sign on the entrance way, 'Harker Lee Private Estate Prison' with a number of beneficiaries underneath the name. He only had a moment to glance at it before being taken down a long hallway with his hands tightly behind his back until he lost feeling in them. Then to a separate room where they searched him once more for weapons, checked his cuffs, and then took his shoes and belt.

Never leaving his side, they had walked him to the mugshot room were his ID number had been given to him. 413 was now his name according to the guards. Even the security made offhanded comments about him being far too quiet and agreeable with what they asked of him. Of course, neither of the guards escorting him received an answer about why he was being so docile, which proved just as unsettling as anything else. The next area was with a man sitting at a table, a file open in front of him, a large stack of files on his left, and a significantly shorter one on his right of stamps on them that had a date written underneath red inked letters, "[COMPLETE]", that Dirk assumed were cases for other inmates. There were rows of supplies behind the intake officer. Shoes, clothing, towels and blankets were lined neatly there behind a cage.

"Sit." The officer ordered, drinking cold coffee off to the side and Dirk was sat into the chair in front of him. The man was wearing a blue prison guard uniform with his name written on the breast pocket in white script, "Int. Ofc. J. Jackson". Dirk memorized the name and the face of the man. He was an older gentleman with graying black hair and dark piercing eyes. "I'm going to ask you a series of questions and you'll answer them as best you can and completely truthfully. Everything you say will be written down and a copy will be sent to your lawyer." Dirk nodded, before the man looked up at him. "These are questions to determine your mental health. If need be, you can be seen by a specialist and be put into either special care or the maximum security you were assigned. Ever thought about killing yourself?" The blond paused before breathing out. "Yes." The pen scratched across the paper. "Ever attempted?" Another pause before he nodded with his soft spoken word, "Yes." Dirk met his gaze as the officer wrote it down before looking down at his fingernails. He felt almost ashamed to admit it that he had gotten low after the game… and lower after Morris. "Feel that way now?" Dirk looked up at him again, wondering if he actually did… ironically and temporarily, he didn't. "No. But I'm on medication."

There was a flicker of a smile from the officer before he went back to writing. Dirk didn't find how it could be funny, but deciding he wouldn't question it either. "Have you recently lost a friend or loved one?" Dirk swallowed before once more staring downward. This time his voice was incredibly soft, "Yes." He had lost a lot within a month. Jenna. His freedom. He had pushed Jake away to keep him both safe and from Dirk's own mental chaos. Now he was here. "Any illnesses or conditions?" Dirk shrugged, "Photophobia, depression, PTSD, and hypermobility… I've recently had one of my kidneys put back in." It caused the officer to do a double take at him before glancing at his file. There were more and more questions before the officer stood up. "Congrats, you qualify to see one of the professionals." He turned toward the supplies, "What size shoe?" Dirk answered him and he had a pile of objects in his hand in a matter of minutes. "Strip. Put your clothing in the plastic bag, your personal items will be inventoried and held until you are released. Put on the orange jumpsuit and follow the guards." He did what he was told, ignoring the stares of the guards at the marks of obvious torture and thinness to him- how badly his bones stuck out from the starvation, how the blades had cut into his back to remove his organs and the bruises that were only now starting to yellow. They continued to look as he zipped up the jumpsuit and put his things into the plastic bag provided.

The intake officer wrote a few more things down, but Dirk couldn't see it from where he was. He stood, taking the plastic bag in his hand to write 'STRIDER' on the front before tossing it into a pile of similar objects. Dirk glanced at it before taking another deep breath, standing straight. The officer gestured to the two guards still waiting in the room. They lead him out and to a steel door, opened it and let him walk inside. It was completely padded; the towel and blanket in his hand went to the floor where he immediately sat. The guard shut the door and he let out the breath he had been holding since the door opened. They were asking questions to assess his mental health and figure if he was a suicide risk- apparently they had determined he was. Dirk imagined that he would stay there until the 'experts' had arrived to tell the guards what to do with him. After a few minutes of hearing nothing but absolute silence from the world beyond, he lay down and stared up at the ceiling. It was better he slept now, knowing he might not get the chance later. It wasn't like he had a chance to prepare for jail, nor did he have any idea what it was going to be like. This was just… common sense. The largest dog ruled the dog house, and whoever fucked with the biggest dog better have a bigger bite than they did. Dirk wasn't exactly in the position to be picking fights either with the sentence he had.

About two hours later they finally came, asked him the same questions as the intake officer had. Discussed his medication and left again in a shorter amount of time than he had spent with the officer earlier. The guard walked him out and through a heavy steel door. They fingerprinted him, grabbing his hand and rolling each finger onto a piece of paper where he had to fill out a form before being dragged back into the hallway and taken to yet another steel door. It seemed that they were already tired of dealing with him.

It hissed open and he was ushered through. Noise met his ears as four floors of cellmates looked down at him as he walked through a cell block. His face upturned to look up at them, the lights all around the room. His eyes were squinted hard against the florescent lighting keeping every inch of the cellblock lit to the fullest extent. He walked through five cellblocks before he saw a cell they were directing him toward. "Fresh meat, boys!" The guard on his right called and the prisoners hooted and hollered at the sight of him. "Oh, look at the cutie~" A very feminine male cooed as he walked by. "Welcome to Cellblock C, need some company sweetheart?!" Someone shouted, some wolf whistled, "Look at the ken doll, Jenson!" He looked up at them; head turning slowly to survey the group around them. Someone from the ground floor laugh, "He looks like a punk ass bitch, come on sweetheart, pucker up!" Dirk snarled as someone came close to him, and they immediately backed away. "Fight to him, boys!" The guards pushed him more toward the walk path ahead before the prisoners could engage him again. They put him inside a cell and shut the door. Not a word was said edgewise from anyone as Dirk tossed his blanket and pillow on the box spring bed. He leaned back on the bed when he sat down, not even greeting the owner of the leg that was swung over the side of the top bunk. He just wanted to sleep. Fuck everyone else.


	2. Don't Forget

He blinked his eyes open slowly to the darkness around him. The sun was coming up over the desert like terrain and sedimentary rock mountains where only cacti dwelled and wild horses roamed. Dirk looked at the streams of light coming through the bars of the window. It was cold and his entire body ached as he moved his hand to grip his pillow. He had apparently slept through his first evening and missing the dinner call though he doubted that he would have eaten anyway. He let out a low breath, eyes still very tired from the events that had happened over the last few days. There wasn't a better time to think than right now; especially when the entire prison seemed to be sleeping except for him… Dirk stretched out his legs that were curled in on himself and cracked his knuckles, back, neck, knees and ankles. The curse of being double jointed meant everything crackled worse than Rice Krispies.

He had done a lot for a twenty-something year old within six months. Dirk rubbed his eyes, breathing out and relishing the low lights around him. Vincent had promised him that he would take his case to the Supreme Court to overrule and find more evidence to free him, but honestly he didn't think much would come out of that endeavor. He didn't exactly trust him, but then again, his rate of trusting practical strangers had certainly dropped in recent months. Dirk believed Roxy would make sure that Vincent followed through- Jake and Jane would aid her as much as they could. It was a better idea not to hope for something like that, better to get something when not hoping on it than hoping and not getting. It was rare anymore that the courts overturned anything that was already passed by a lower level judge that had as much respect as his dead. Theresa Pyropa was one of the most fair judges in the state, and she valued justice above all else- that was what he had been told by Vincent at least. It was strange, to have a judge that supposedly couldn't be bought or bribed now days. Someone was always on someone payroll and if they weren't, there had to be some dirt that they had kept well hidden.

Dirk rolled over to look at the underside of the bunk above him. There were names scratched into the metal and he couldn't help but remember the wall in Nathanial's makeshift jail below his home. He frowned, reading all the nicknames. There was a moment when the cold settled into his chest and he could hardly breathe. It passed in seconds- but that didn't mean it didn't hurt when it had. Somewhere in his mind he realized that he had gone into that Hell as "Dirk" but left being something entirely different. He no longer knew what it felt like not to hurt or carry the weight of guilt that he absolutely could not shed. Dirk read through the names again before shutting his eyes. The entire situation left a wound on him that was mental and physical… and he knew how to patch up his own physical wounds. Mental scarring on the other hand was more difficult to try to fix or heal. If the PTSD from the Game wasn't enough to show for that lack of knowledge he possessed. Dirk wondered if Jake, Rose or Jane realized that if he could just snap his fingers, he would fix himself immediately. He blamed himself for that too. He had walked away from the Game with more issues than everyone else and had nearly offed himself because he just didn't believe he was worth keeping around.

His mind went darker as he continued with those thoughts. He still to this day wasn't worth keeping around. How much money were they spending on his lawyer? How much time were they wasting getting him out of prison when he could just…? Dirk looked at the blanket and then to the ceiling. There was no place to tie it to and he let out a long breath. He couldn't take pills either. Outside there was a railing that he could throw himself off of but he imagined there was a fence of some sorts to keep him from doing such a thing. Hell, the prisoners looked like they were already planning on killing him so what was the point of committing suicide? What Hal had said before, that- which since Hal was a hallucination, Dirk had technically been the one speaking- he would commit suicide regardless of the outcome didn't unsettle him as much as he thought it would. Dirk breathed out and banged his head back into the pillow. "Fuck." He whispered to the silence, only slight white noise and ringing in his ears. His head hurt and he put pressure on both sides of his head to hold them together from the splitting migraine. Dirk swallowed, trying not to focus on the pain in his head or his chest… but… He missed Jake. That was probably the main source of his heartache. When he was trapped with Jenna and Rachel- he had never had the time or the strength to worry about Jake- now he was alone again.

Dirk sighed angrily at himself. He had broken it off and that was better for everyone involved. He would probably visit and there was nothing he could do to change Dirk's mind about the decision. Honestly, Dirk didn't blame Jake any longer for what he said. It was nearly half a year ago by this point and the man was so drunk that he could have been talking to a squirrel and thought it was Jane. He pushed the blond hair out of his face as he thought about Jake then rubbed his eyes. If the spiraling depression in his life wasn't caused by his self-ensured break-up, it was definitely assisting it. Dirk tried to shut up the little voice in his head that told him Jake would just be waking up around this time if he was still on the sleeping schedule Dirk knew. Jake would smile and roll over to kiss the back of his neck, wrap his arm around Dirk's waist, whispering a good morning before letting the paler sleep for a while longer. Dirk shut his eyes. "Shut up." He told his brain, pushing the entire vision in his mind away. "I'm better off alone." He told himself before hearing a slam of bars and a whistle. "Time to get up, ladies!" One of the guards screamed and he sucked up the emotions. He didn't want to get up. He wanted to lay there and die. He shielded his eyes from the light, rising despite his inner battle.

xXx

Dirk soon found out that a typical day for a prisoner was far from what he expected. The guards ushered them all like cattle down into a cafeteria that was fit told hold the entire complex. He filed into the line with the rest of the inmates- not looking up at any of them as he moved into the line and only spoke a word of thanks to the worker that served him his grits with a stale piece of toast. He sat alone, on the farthest table he could without the guards watching him like hawks. It was maybe around 5:30 in the morning by that point and he only ate maybe two spoonfuls of food before getting sick on his stomach. He watched a few before a guard walking by told him that he was being assigned a job in three days due to a paperwork mistake and to enjoy himself while he could. Dirk found that not particularly unsettling, but knew that would more than likely get him into shit with the other inmates- who were already filing back into hallways to report to their work assignments. There was no one to write a letter to that he felt like that would bother with reading it, the library was being 'remodeled' after an incident with a few spray bottles of paint, and… that left him sitting in his bunk waiting for the day to end.

Around 12, they called for lunch and he found himself back in line with no stomach for what was being served. He sat in the same place as before, ignoring everyone else around him while he stared at his tray. The prison didn't even give them forks- just very bendable rubber spoons. The meal didn't have a bit of color to it and he frowned trying to pick it apart with the spoon. He felt more like a mental patient than he did a prisoner. The mix made a sticky sound as he pulled it apart to see a mixture of beef, vegetables, bread and a few other things that had all been thrown into a blinder. For someone who had been starved to death for months before this and would eat dirt or bugs to live, he nearly puked on the spot seeing what they had mashed together. He pushed it down before blinking as a shadow came over his table. Though it was a relief to his eyes- he damn well knew it wasn't a good sign. His intense orange gaze looked up from the 'mystery sludge' to the people hovering over him now.

By this point, he hadn't eaten in two days, slept well, or had his medication. All of that combined made Dirk have absolutely zero patience for anyone willing to start something with him. The prisoner that was leaning over him was a beefy sort of man who looked vaguely Hispanic and two skinner men behind him. One looked like the living embodiment of a horse and the other had a bowl cut that would only make a grandmother proud. His ears pricked at the sudden silence in the room as the largest settled his hands on the table, one on either side of his lunch tray. Over the man's shoulder was another prisoner that wasn't a part of the group. Dirk's eyes briefly met amber brown pair of eyes that were staring back him. There was only a moment of connection before Dirk's gaze returned to the three in front of him now. "Can I help you?" Dirk asked, raising a blond eyebrow at them and the largest flipped over his tray so it clattered off the table and onto the floor. There was a long sigh from Dirk's nose- it wasn't like he was planning on eating it anyway.

"Why you here, Homes?" The blond stared back up at him with narrowed eyes, the guards were watching them from behind cages above, but didn't make a move toward them in the slightest. "That's my business." The largest snorted, taking him by the front and dragged him up out of his seat, over the table until he was held up in front of him. The other prisoners in the room backed up. Dirk caught a glimpse of the red eyed prisoner again still watching him in the sudden movement of the room. There was an inmate beside the one with red eyes that was large and extremely muscular. His long black ponytail was tied up and he was listening to the other talk with a grim look. The brief moment broke again when he was pulled so roughly. Dirk snarled, hand going to the one on his shirt front and nails clawing at the meaty appendage there. The guards did nothing to stop them from fighting- they were there to keep them in, not police them inside the building. They weren't paid enough to stop fights when it was a privately owned prison. The large man laughed at him, shaking him while he was up in the air. "You gonna die here, homes. You got that? No pretty boys stay in my cell block without pay'in the toll."

Dirk was a naturally calm human being. He had a very 'slow-to-boil' temper according to Roxy and the others. Though when he finally got to the point where he was mad, things seemed to be destroyed. Probably one of the many reasons he was a Prince class in the Game. The 413 tag on his orange jumper ripped a little in man's grip. Dirk snarled at the man still holding him, "Let me go before I remove your arm." Of course, it caused larger man to laugh more and the two behind him took out knives- or rather, sharpened sticks into knives. Dirk didn't know, nor did he care, what a toll previously mentioned was. He had been threatened and he had a flashback to Nathanial brandishing a knife in front of his face for a moment. Dirk's eyes dilated in under a second. He hadn't fought Nathanial because he was scared for Jenna and he was too weak. He was weak now… but he didn't give a damn what happened to himself at this point.

It all went downhill from there. Dirk head butted the man, causing him to drop him. He may have been underweight, but he still knew how to use his body in all the right ways to drop a larger target than him. Dirk took one of the mental legs from the bench he had been sitting on a few moments ago. Breaking it off in time, he swung and connected with the horse looking man's neck. He knocked him down, twirled it to hit the other coming from behind. The largest had gotten up again and he took out his knee, before shoving the pole up underneath his chin. They lay in a heap around him and Dirk let out a breath, staring at the wreckage of the table, split trays and unconscious bodies around him.

All eyes were on him. It had taken less than twenty seconds to take out three grown men who had surely caused more terror than what they were worth. "Let's get one thing straight here!" He yelled to the crowd, looking up at the second floor balcony's as he tossed the now bent pipe on the table. It clattered to a stop, "I'm not here to be anyone's bitch! I'm not here to make friends. And I'm sure as hell not here to do anything _but _my time and go home. Anyone got a problem with that- take it up with the fucking management. Got it?" No one answered and he stepped over one of the men on the floor. He walked past the prisoner with red eyes and his muscled, Native American looking friend, their eyes met for a moment and he almost saw a smirk on the other's features.


	3. Spins Madly On

After the incident in the lunch room, he had skipped the rest of the evening that included walking out into the make-shift recreational yard and gym for about three hours before dinner. Dirk made his way through the halls away from the path of the other inmates until he was back in his cell. The guard checked him in to make sure he was in the building before walking away to his desk that was embedded into the wall containing the security station for the cell block. He let out a long breath, heart only now calming down. His entire body ached all over once again and from just so very little movement it almost surprised him. Then again, he had to reason with himself, beating someone with a pipe wasn't exactly small movements. He put a hand over his eyes to hide them from the blinding florescent lighting of the prison. He would probably give his kidney up again just to have a pair of glasses. It was getting damn near ridicules to constantly have a headache but alas, he did. They didn't have sunglasses in prison, or at least he assumed so having yet been outside to see if the prisoners were allowed that small luxury. Mid-thought he realized that he hadn't had his medication for that day and groaned a tad bit angrily at himself. If he lapsed again they might not give it to him at all.

He let out a long breath before hearing the bed creek above him. Dirk still hadn't met his roommate yet and didn't desire to have a conversation with whoever it was now. His bunkmate had probably been in the lunchroom so Dirk doubted that he would have trouble, at least from how the rest of the group had reacted to him. Dirk wondered briefly it he had beaten those men to a pulp because of what Nathanial had done to him- then immediately shot down the idea before it took hold inside his mind. He had been fighting killer robots since he was able to program them to move, he had never exactly been a completely normal person by any means. The blond knew he would have beaten them up probably sooner than he had in the lunchroom than immediately after he had left the Game. The four of them, after the Game that had pretty much wrecked all of their lives to Hell and back, had all had a tough time adjusting to life in the 'civilized' world. As it turns out, their world wasn't nearly as civilized as they thought to begin with- if Nathanial and this jail sentence wasn't enough to prove that case. Dirk rubbed his eyes before turning the pillow over on his face to block the light- perhaps it would smother him in the night and he wouldn't have to bother with the daily life of this place anymore… The man had no idea how he would end up surviving however many months he had been sentenced. He ended up hearing people come back in from the recreational area before he fell asleep; temporarily the footfalls and enthusiastic yelling lulled him to sleep… at least there were people here.

xXx

He woke trying to contain his fear with broken sobs. Nathanial had been there above him for the last hour or so in his mind- perhaps it was only five minutes in reality. Dirk had been staring into black hellish black eyes where two bullet holes guided him into an abyss of flame and hatred. One was bleeding openly- droplets hitting his face and smearing. The other eye had the end of the bullet Jake had shot sticking out of it still. Nathanial had been choking him with one hand and holding a hammer high above his head in the other hand. _"You think you could leave me and our little family?! What a stupid bitch you're turning into! Keep this up and no one will ever want you!" _

Dirk gagged in his sleep as the burnt and skin peeled off the face that came closer and closer toward him, the entire body made from blackened flesh. He had struggled before waking up to throw the pillow across the room and into the concrete wall. Dirk _hurt_. God, did he hurt. The pain was far too much for a moment- and he held himself, sitting up in the bare darkness of the prison. Once again the only one awake inside the concrete walls besides the night guards who wouldn't come to look at a prisoner suffering from a nightmare. His entire body wanted to fracture apart and explode- to die or to scream or to just let out something besides tears that just didn't cover the pain anymore. He clung to himself, feeling the bones that jutted awkwardly out of his skin and ribs that he could count underneath the orange jumper he was wearing. His nails bit into his skin brutally to try to keep control of himself. He was alone… so _fucking_ alone. He let a few more tears slip out before he wiped his face with his clothing, not giving a damn if it stained the already bleached beyond recognition jumpsuit he was wearing. Dirk swallowed reaching out for his pillow and sliding it back over to him by the edge of it. The floor would be cold… but perhaps that would be better?

He hadn't done this since he was a child. Dirk got on his hands and knees, flattening himself underneath the bed and held onto his pillow as he scooted underneath the bottom bunk. He didn't know if it was the idea of being underneath the bed that comforted him, the familiar place, or the fact that he couldn't be seen by anyone but the guards looking through their cameras to see where he was.

It was strangely comforting for him to crawl amongst the dust and the dirt to hide underneath his bed. He had done it when he was younger with each passing night when the robots couldn't provide the comfort he craved. A storm had come through and the house had been rocking back and forth until it made him want to puke. At any moment one of the steel pillars could break and he would fall to his death- hell, when that Hurricane had come through he hadn't even known how to swim yet. He shut his eyes, putting his hands over his ears to block out his own thoughts it seemed. The idea of being alone- even if he managed to grab some sort of wreckage in the swell of ocean if the apartment had fallen… humanity was gone. He would have drown within a day, less if it had been a storm- hopeless and forgotten.

Afterward he had considered it pretty pathetic to hide underneath a bed- but when Huston still remained underwater and he was alive for one more day… it gave him reason to hide underneath the bed. No one would know what that would be like thanks to him and the other three. No one would witness humanities fall for many years after the inhabitants of this world had left- or at least, that was what they were promised when they won the Game. Dirk took that as a small comfort while he hid where he did. His brother wouldn't grow up like he did. He would grow up with someone there, people to listen to and dreams to fulfill. It suddenly pained him to think of his brother; the one he had never met but knew everything about through different avenues of social media. It had taken him a while to get up the mental readiness to read what happened to him. Why he didn't come home after his younger years; all he remembered was a tall man walking out the door saying that he would be back... Dirk shut his eyes tightly, hugging the pillow. He was a grown man who was hiding underneath the bed of a prison cell. He really couldn't sink any lower in his mind. Dirk sighed, wondering what he would think of him now. His brother would probably be ashamed of him.

xXx

Somehow Dirk had managed for fall asleep again- though as to how he couldn't be sure. He heard the call around five in the morning to wake and he groaned softly on the cold surface. Dirk nearly thought he was back on the cold floor of Nathanial's cell before realizing he was still underneath a metal frame. He blinked before crawling out; brushing himself off to see his roommate was already gone. It was inevitable that they would meet and he was still in no rush to find out who it was. With how his luck was going, his roommate was probably one of the men he'd beaten to a pulp with a pipe yesterday. The blond shielded his eyes as he walked down the hallways before the sun fully came through the windows, headed toward breakfast that he could choke down before getting his medications. His headache was made even worse from the lack of sleep and medication and it wasn't getting any better with the lighting of every office building in the United States. Dirk walked into the line of the breakfast bar and grabbed a tray, like the day he had before, getting a plate full of something that resembled grits. It wasn't that bad in all honesty- at least they put butter on it.

Dirk didn't think it was wise to develop patterns in prison, especially when your face automatically pissed people off like his did. Though regardless of being wise or not, he went back to the same table he sat at the other day, orange eyes stayed lowered in the direction of his food. It wasn't until about ten minutes later when something came skidding down the table that finally made him produce any movement again. He jumped, eyes going wide to look for whatever someone was throwing at him- call him jumpy or cautious, either way he had a right to be after yesterday. Dirk almost deflated when he sat the black pair of sunglasses that were now up against his tray. He looked up at who had sent them to see the prisoner with reddish brown eyes. His brows furrowed at the other gestured to them with his chin. "Photophobia, right?" The other asked and Dirk frowned, "How do you know that?" There was a flicker of a smirk, "Because you squint all the time like you're being stabbed in the eyeballs." Dirk glanced at the glasses, knowing that no gift was free; especially in prison. "What do you want me to do for them?" The black haired prisoner stood, shrugging his shoulder. "Nothing. Consider it a gift for kicking the Three Stooges asses yesterday." He walked past him and Dirk followed him with his eyes, reaching down to pick up the sunglasses and examine them.

Was fate so ironic that it could sometimes be cruel? He was starting to think so, seeing the glasses in his hands were the exact same style that his brother had worn once upon a time. Dirk swallowed looking at them through blurred eyes before putting them on. 'Ironically Cruel' should be the name of his biography he realized as the sunglasses not only fit but he opened his eyes fully to see around him. He let out a breath, nearly relaxing in his surroundings when he could see farther than the end of the table. Dirk turned his gaze back toward the prisoner who was sitting with the tall, muscular Native American prisoner again. He gave a small nod of thanks when the one who had given him the glasses looked back toward the blond. The breakfast bell rang and he stood, tossing his food away before walking back through the halls toward his cell while everyone else reported to their work assignments. He would probably have one more day before they found him one.

He passed a glass window and froze mid-step, leg still out in the air. The hallway was empty and for that he was glad. He stared at himself in the window for a full minute. Without gel in his hair to make it stick back like it usually did and the new glasses- he damn near looked like a carbon copy of his brother… but that wasn't what had made him go paler than Roxy ever was. But the fact that his brother was standing right behind him, eyes red as flames looking into his own orange in the reflection. David Strider was in his full glory, a little taller perhaps than Dirk was now, full red suit and black dress shirt underneath, the telltale gear imprinted on his breast pocket. Dirk's eyes grew wider each passing second. He twisted to see no one and then looked back at the window to find him gone. Dirk kept looking back and forth before shaking his head, walking quickly back to his cell where he could, at least for a moment, breath.


	4. A Bad Dream

He had no idea how long he'd been sitting on that bed staring at the wall in the room- his breathing had calmed by the time he heard his roommate, or at least that was who he assumed it was, come back in. His heart hadn't stopped beating faster than a recently released stallion into the wild. His eyes kept locked on the bumpy surface of the concrete and he let out a low breath. "What happened to you?" The voice was vaguely familiar and Dirk turned his head to look at the newcomer. Seeing it was the man from before that had given him the glasses. Dirk blinked, "Nothing." He answered, "Did you need something?" He asked, turning his body away from him to fix his pillow. No one needed to know he was having hallucinations of his dead brother in any reflective surface. "I need something to be in my cell?" The man snorted, crossing his arms while leaning on the bars. Dirk frowned and turned to look back at him, "You're the top bunk?" The other raised his eyebrow, "No, I just came here to tell you this is my cell to fuck with you." He rolled his eyes, "Yes, I'm your roommate." A hand was offered to Dirk, "I'm Kar." Dirk paused looking at it before deciding it was better to make… acquaintances, than it was to make enemies. Especially when they bunk with you…

"Car?" He asked, shaking his hand with a firm grip. He had been taught by Jake that a firm handshake gave the best impressions; he'd never had to use one before. "Yeah, spelled with a 'K'. It's Cantonese." Dirk made a face at the name, "And you sure look Cantonese." Kar made a face in return, arching his eyebrows before furrowing them together, "Hey, I don't judge you by your name- which I don't even know. Don't be a wiseass." Dirk sighed, letting go of the other's hand. He knew that telling his name would probably be a bad idea. They had televisions here and undoubtedly they would know who was involved in the Morris case. He didn't need that kind of reputation- not only that, he wouldn't put it past Nathanial or his brother Daniel to have friends in prison. "413." He replied and Kar snorted, "And you gave me shit about my name. No one gives a shit about your number here but the guards. But hey, you want to keep that information to yourself, that's cool. Just don't go around by a number when one of the inmates gets curious. They'll think you're a snitch or some shit." Kar shrugged when he stopped speaking and Dirk looked up at him, "What would you recommend then since you apparently know your way around." Kar shrugged again, climbing onto the top bunk, "Something, that doesn't make you sound like a piece of metal would be a nice start."

Dirk frowned at that, "I'll think about it." Was all the reply Kar got before Dirk laid down as well. Strange how people related him to robots even when they didn't know him. Perhaps that was why his friends often found him colder than 'a witches' tit' as Jake had once said underneath his breath. Of course, that sparked an argument between them that only Jake would know what that was like. Dirk sighed, not hearing Kar ask another question. "What?" He grunted up at him, sunglasses pushed up and fingers rubbing his eyes. "I said, what are you in for?" Dirk's mouth immediately formed a thin line and he let out a breath through his nose. "That's my business." Kar groaned, "Great, I've got a roommate with a stick up his ass. Jesus, you're worse than fucking Evert on a good day. Hey, I just wanna know if you're gonna kill me in my sleep or not." The blond almost asked him who Evert was, but assumed it was the Native American inmate he hung around. Kar didn't get a response to his observation of a stick up Dirk's ass before he scooted away from the wall and sat up. "Is the medical wing still operating?" Kar turned to look down at him, hand supporting his chin. "Probably."

"I'm going there then." He knew he didn't need to tell Kar that, but his head was starting to hurt more seriously and needed something- more than likely his medication- before they shut it down for the night. Granted, it was barely mid-day by this point, but the prison already didn't care enough to stop fighting inmates. They would more likely not give a damn regarding medication. His shoes tapped on the concrete floors as he walked, glancing at the window to see if his brother would be staring back at him again. Dirk saw only himself but didn't find relief in that as much as he thought he would. On one hand, he wanted to see his brother's face behind his again, just to see it was there. The high cheekbones, sharp nose, moderately full lips that they shared, and the very light dusting of freckles across their nose that they both shared. Dirk suddenly craved seeing his face again- he hadn't technically seen it since before the game. The blond had a picture of Dave holding him as an infant, not knowing when it was taken or by whom. Hell, he'd met the younger version brother in the game but… it just wasn't the David Strider that he knew- or at least, the one he had grown up thinking he knew. He wanted to see him again though. The paleness David had inherited from Roxy, the light blond hair he'd gotten from her as well and burning red eyes that he had never known he had until the Game passed.

But he also feared seeing him again. Besides seeing the brother that he hadn't really known besides what was leaked to the media, it also represented something in his own mind. If he was seeing his brother, either… either something had gone wrong in the Game or he was… hallucinating again. Dirk honestly didn't know what was worse; being haunted by your dead older brother who was eradicated with the creation of a new galaxy and timeline or the Game of all things leaking into reality by some accidental misfortune of yet another doomed timeline. He supposed Jake or anyone else's answer would have been the latter.

He finally stood in a small line waiting for medication, eyes lowered down now he wouldn't draw attention to himself in his thoughts. Dirk saw a few other inmates milling around, one of them was from the group he'd beaten with the pipe the other day. The man had a bruise on the side of his face to show for it, but was holding a picture of someone in his shaking hands. Dirk frowned a bit, looking up at him through his sunglasses, now able to watch people from the corner of his eye without being seen. Tears fell on the photograph and slid off, and thus caused Dirk to look away. It wasn't that it made him feel uncomfortable to watch a man's private moment, but the tears that made him feel like he wasn't meant for the man to be seen. It had always been a private thing to him- or one that was the reaction from having something deeply hurtful happen to you. It wasn't meant for something simple. He blinked, realizing what he was thinking inside his own mind and immediately cut it off. By God, was he really that cold to think the man was crying over the picture because it was simple and petty? Dirk held the bridge of his nose, calming his racing thoughts down as best he could. Being without medicine didn't do him any good at all. He was finally next in line and stepped up to the counter. "Number?" The inmate asked and he frowned, "Uh- 413." There was another pause before the inmate slid him out a cup of white tablets. He frowned, "What are these?"

The inmate turned back around, looking across between violent and bored. "Medicine. Take it and scram. Make sure somebody sees ya take it." Dirk shook his head, "I take two hundred milligrams of Klonopin and Tranylcypromine. You know, long yellow pill and a small red one. What the fuck are these?" He gestured to the long gray pills that had the no letters on them but the number '150' on them. The inmate growled at him, "Look moron, I just hand out the medicine. You got a problem, see the warden. I don't have time for this shit." He shut the metal door to the medical area and locked it. Dirk blinked, looking down at the pills in the little cup. They weren't probably even the right medication.

A little voice spoke up inside his head and he swallowed hard remembering the chill it brought him. Nathanial was right in his ear, "Why don't you take them and join our little family. Jenna and I miss you so…" He turned his head away from the whisper, feeling sick on his stomach. "I need those goddamn pills." He murmured, turning on his heel toward the warden's office. He hadn't met the individual yet, but the cup remained full by his side. Dirk knocked on the door for nearly two minutes before it opened to one of the most frightening men he'd ever seen in his life. A sailor looking man with two scars on his face, with narrowed lilac eyes, and a nasty snarl on his face. It nearly made Dirk retreat and take the pills without a second thought. "What the Hell do you want?" The startling man was somewhat diminished by the slight speech impediment- making his words with 'w' in the start, longer sounding. It was from his jaw not moving all the way to the side and shaking forward, but it made Dirk almost regain himself. "The inmate in the medical wing gave me the wrong meds. I need the kind I'm prescribed." The man narrowed his eyes, "Do I look like your mother?"

Dirk narrowed his eyes at him, "Well with a little make-up…" He immediately got smacked across the face, knocking the glasses askew. Other inmates, that had been walking or standing nearby where the main 'courtyard' of the cellblock was, were now staring at them. Dirk took a deep breath, straightening his glasses with one finger before looking back at the man. "I don't give a shit what you were given. They sent the meds down and if they sent them, fucking take them. Or do I have to get someone to shove them down your throat?" Dirk looked up at him, opening his mouth to say something else that would cause the warden to more than likely beat the over loving crap out of him before he was getting unceremoniously picked up around the waist. "What the fuc-!" Kar was there in front of him and the large Native American man was holding him around the waist. "Sorry, Sir. He's a little new here. We'll teach him how things work. No need to call the guards to tazer anyone." Kar smiled at him, holding up his hands to try to smooth things over. The warden snorted before slamming the door in his face. Kar immediately turned before punching Dirk in the head, none too lightly. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" He hissed at him and Dirk snarled back, "What the fuck is wrong with you! Let me fucking down!" He added to the one holding him and immediately he dropped.

The larger of the three stepped away, looking at him with dark blue eyes behind his own- cracked- sunglasses. Long black hair was pulled into a ponytail as strong arms crossed in front of him. Dirk got up off the floor, somehow still amazingly keep the pills in the cup. Kar crossed his arms as well, staring at Dirk. "What makes you fucking think you can go fucking barging up to the fucking WARDEN and fucking complaining!? Are you fucking stupid?" Kar nearly foamed at the mouth and Dirk furrowed his brow, "Why the fuck not?!" The larger sighed, straightening his glasses. "This conversation should be had elsewhere and not outside the warden's office." His voice was deep, resonating and Dirk couldn't… process the familiarity of it. "And who are you?" Dirk looked at him and the man turned his head to look over his glasses. "Evert. And you are?" Kar snorted, "He's the legendary 413 I told you about." Evert simply nodded before walking back toward the cellblock. Kar went in first to their cell, leaving Dirk to come in second and Evert to stand at the door- nearly blocking it he was so large. "So why did you decide to poke the one guy who can kill you and get away with it- scratch that, everyone can fucking kill you here." Kar amended, watching Dirk who shrugged. "They gave me the wrong medication. I don't exactly want to kill myself anytime soon." Kar raised an eyebrow, "You'd be the first. Bet the asshole running medical told you to talk to the warden, huh? Fucking prick is trying to get you killed."

Dirk frowned, "What's so damn wrong with talking to the man whose supposed to be taking 'care' of us?" He made little marks around the word he spoke with his fingers. Kar laughed bitterly, "You think anyone gives a damn about us in here? We're here to be forgotten about!" Dirk looked up at him, "What do you mean by that?" Evert cleared his throat and Kar nearly deflated entirely before shaking his head. "Look, all, I'm saying, is that when we get here, most of us don't leave. Privately owned prisoners are the worst taken care of and left to die. Some of the assholes in here were supposed to be released years ago. But nobody ever came and the paperwork disappeared. We're sent here to die here and we can't do a damn thing about it. So fucking hope and pray that your paperwork doesn't go missing and the people on the outside don't forget your name. But piss off the guards- especially the wardens? You're gonna get yourself killed." Dirk listened but didn't believe half the things he was hearing. "What's the point of staying alive then if you're going to die in a place like this anyway?" Kar blinked, opened his mouth, and shut it again, looking to Evert for an answer and none came.

The blond shook his head, "So what am I supposed to do about my pills in the meantime, suck it up and take whatever the fuck they gave me?" Kar frowned before shrugging, "Could be generic?" Evert shook his head, "It would be ill-advised to take a medication you knew nothing about." Dirk shrugged, "Well if I'm going to die here, I might as well do it high as a kite." He downed the pills before either of them said a thing. Two pills went down his throat and he shivered at the taste. The guards were calling for dinner and Evert glanced at them, "New work orders will be released to us tomorrow morning, we should gain our strength and rest as much as possible." Before he left down the hallway. Kar snorted, "See what I have to deal with?" Dirk shrugged, stomach twisting for a moment before it settled, "Doesn't seem all that bad to me." Another bitter laugh spilled out, "Great, you go be best friends with him then. I'm going to dinner." He left and Dirk knew he should follow him. His eyes were tired as he stood, legs feeling heavy from the day he'd just had. He was still thin, injured and more than a tad bit depressed. He felt something then, a presence in the room and he stopped short at the door. Dirk turned his head to meet his brother's gaze. There was silence between them as David leaned against the back wall of the cell, arms crossed, still dressed in his red suit. Not a hair out of place, glasses seated on the end of his nose perfectly. The man didn't turn into smoke and Dirk barely got the word out in a whisper, "Bro?"


	5. Echo

Red eyes from behind darkened sunglasses nearly burnt through his soul as he turned to look back at him. Dirk's whisper was unacknowledged for a moment before the man in front of him raised his head to look directly into his own sunglass clad eyes. David was slightly taller than him, but that might have been from the black cowboy boots that he wore similar to the way his own pre-scratch self had worn. Dirk worked his mouth, staring still, but no sound or breath came, he wasn't sure if his lungs even worked for the full two minutes he stared at his brother. The technically older brother in this situation still had his arms crossed, waiting for Dirk to speak, who finally seemed to be able to restart his brain function after nearly painting David into his mind. There was such a hurt and softness to Dirk's words when they finally were said, "You're a hallucination, aren't you?" David blinked before nodding slightly. Dirk swallowed, rubbing his eyes for a moment from underneath the shades. "Shit, why you… why couldn't have been Hal again…" He murmured.

David cocked his head to the side, face still impassive as ever, "You'd rather not see me?" The shorter opened his mouth before shaking his head, "No… and yes." David didn't ask him why, as if he already knew the answer to that. "Why are you here, Dirk?" The question took the younger blonde off guard, mostly because he was in shock that his brother would ask that being his hallucination. Not only that, it added his belief that David would be disappointed if he knew he was in jail, and Dirk immediately recoiled from the question. "I…" He started and faltered, having a million and one things to say but unable to say one of them when he was finally face to face with his brother. "I… I'm being punished for something I couldn't do." David continued to hold his gaze, walking toward him now and Dirk backed up now his boney shoulder blades were pressed into the cold steel bars of his cell. "No, you're not." His voice was soft, though Dirk could feel it resonate in his skin for seconds after he said it. He'd never known this man to be intimidating in any part of his life- perhaps interviews with reporters for companies that he didn't care for, FOX News was one of the few, but never to people he knew. Had his mind made up this image to make him think that he should be afraid of this person? Or perhaps he had just put him on such a high pedestal that when he finally came face to face… he was frightened of him.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, eyes not daring to leave the red one's in front of him. David stopped a few inches away from his face, so close he could feel the other's chilling breath on his skin. His hallucinations always seemed so vividly real to him he could get lost in them. "Don't play dumb to what you see right in front of you." David nodded outside the cell like the answer would appear there in a moment, "You're better than that. You can build robots overnight; solve any mathematical equation, read novels in minutes under the right conditions. Don't act like you're stupid." Dirk bristled a bit, "I don't know what you're talking about. You came to me! Talking about why I was in here and all that bullshit and now you're calling me stupid- just fucking tell me if you have some ethereal message or some shit!" David shook his head looming over him, "I'm not going to tell you something that you should already know. I'm your projection. Hallucinations can only use what you know or what you think you know." David arms remained crossed and Dirk shook his head, "This doesn't work that way for me…" David turned away from him, walking away to look in the window to the desert outside with narrowed eyes. The cellblock was empty by now and the only guard was at the end of the hallway snoring in his chair. "The names of your cellmate and his friend, Kar and Evert, they sound a lot like Karkat and Equius do they not? Even look like them without the horns and the gray skin, not to mention the claws and pointy teeth with small changes to hair style." Dirk paused before shrugging, "I guess when you over analyze it like that, sure, but what does the trolls have to do with anything?"

"Everything." David turned around to look at him. "You've already thought about what's happened. The Game." Dirk frowned, then shook his head pressing himself against that bars in a failing attempt to get away from him more, "No, that's not possible. We shut down the Game now it wouldn't be opened again unless there was some… some super event that no one could cause. We made sure that Game would never harm us or anyone else again. For all intensive terms, we destroyed it now it would never be activated again." David walked past him back into the cell, "The Game wasn't really a game, Dirk. It was a destruction sequence disguised for what it needed to be in our time. Some worlds it was a person, some worlds it was a statue, some worlds it was a plant. You realized this when the troll kind got the same sort of game but with a different name. Who made the Game? Who sent it? Why had we found other species that were trapped inside the game like the salamanders or frogs? It took the form of what it needed to be to be activated in the first place by some idiotic humans- A Game. But somehow you and your friends managed to beat it, unlike me and my friends. We paved the way for you in the null scratch- which you took advantage of to create the next perfect universe."

Dirk eye's finally left him to look to the right, as if he was remembering all of this in his own mind's eye. The trials in tribulations that they went through to win that mess had nearly killed them- it had, in some cases. "I already knew that much- not the shape shifting Game part, but that make's sense as much as anything did in that session so I guess you pulled that from my subconscious. What are you getting at?" David turned back to him, "So why isn't the world as perfect as you and your friends created? You each used your wish that you were granted at the end of the Game. The wishes were to create a better world, to keep your memories intact, stay together in the same time, and finally that the Game could never be restarted. So why isn't the world perfect?" Dirk shook his head, not knowing the answer to that. The four had asked themselves that plenty of times, but they had chalked it up to bad phrasing or some sort of misunderstanding. They had been together with their memories… thus they thought most of it had been fine in the transference. "What are you trying to tell me?" He asked softly, fear growing like a stone in the bottom of his stomach. He already knew the answer but needed to hear it more than he wanted to admit.

"There was a glitch in the game." Dirk nearly felt his knees give out and his stomach drop. Sure, when someone said it out loud, it didn't seem like that big of a deal. But the understanding of the Game it took to know that a glitch _never _ended well for anyone. Especially those who were players involved. "What kind of glitch?" He regained himself and David shrugged, "I don't know because you don't know. But it's obvious that the trolls are here. Kar and Evert? The best guess I can manage is Karkat and Equius with their memories erased. They'll be drawn to parts of their life that are similar to their old ones. Like you." Dirk nodded mumbling to himself, "Like atoms that are close to each other will tend to find each other again." David nodded in agreement. "This means you have to find out what the glitch was and fix it before-." The short blond broke out into bitter laugher, "Like fuck I'm doing that! I'm not fixing a god damn thing! If the trolls are here, so what, it isn't that bad of a glitch. It doesn't involve me- I won the Game and my days of torture and mayhem are over." A red clad hand was held up to silence him suddenly and Dirk flinched away before feeling that nothing had actually hit him like he thought it was going to.

"This is about you." David's hand stayed where it was. "It involves you especially… and Roxy, Jane and Jake. It's about the future me, Rachel and Jenna. I fought so you could live in a better world, away from the destruction that was going to follow humanity because of what that Game caused. John, Jade, Rose and I all fought before we finally fell- just like our guardians did before us." Dirk shook his head, stepping back from him. He didn't know why there were tears in his eyes. "I didn't ask you to do that for me! I never asked you to die for me- I _would never_ have asked that of you!" David was quiet then, opening his mouth before shutting it, reopening it a few moments later, "You didn't have to. That's what we do for our family and our friends." Dirk shook his head, feeling sick on his stomach, tears coming out of his eyes like waterfall he couldn't stop any longer.

"God, just shut the fuck up! Do you know how alone I was?! Every fucking hurricane- every time I needed you there!? I had to teach myself how to fucking walk- I had to learn how to speak from a fucking television- I read subtitles of what you were saying in interviews before I could read the books that were scattered all over the damn apartment! You LEFT me there and I never even knew what happened until humanity was GONE and I was the only one left ALIVE!" He was screaming now but it didn't stop him now, the emotions raging inside him hadn't been brought up against the man in front of him before. He had never gotten this out of his system and it had been boiling inside his mind. The Dave he'd met in the Game didn't deserve his anger, thus never received it. But the one in front of him did, even if he had made him inside his own mind. "I hated myself for years afterward- knowing exactly what you just told me. You died for me and humanity, and they still LOST and I couldn't even help you. The Dave I met in the Game at least told me that I saved him but I couldn't do a damn thing but read that you were last seen on some rooftop facing hundreds of thousands of that Fishy Bitch's minions- killing her head two before she made an appearance herself and you LOST against her." He was breathing too hard, feeling like his heart was going too fast- like he was on a verge of a heart attack. He had to sit down, putting his face in his hands. "I didn't even understand why until I met you in the Game and met her…. I didn't understand… and though I might understand now, I don't want to… You just… forgot I existed and I grew up alone."

David did nothing but stand there during the vent that had years of pent up aggression in every word. Finally he settled down on one knee, bringing up his chin. "I never forgot about you." He whispered, showing him a picture in his wallet. He remembered the smell of leather and it was the same picture from his room- the one he had never known the origin of. "You have to listen to me Dirk, you have to fight or there will be nothing left to fight for. That timeline you grew up in will repeat… and nothing will be able to stop it if you don't try." Dirk swallowed, shaking his head, the guilt returning in the back of his mind and swelling to take him over. "I can't… I'm not strong enough. I belong here for not saving her. If I couldn't save Jenna, I'm not fit to save anyone. Appear in front of Roxy or Jane… hell, Jake. They always managed to save the world- I'm just a destroyer." There was silence before David stood slowly and ruffled his hair. "Denial." He whispered sadly to him, before walking out the cell door. He opened his mouth, waiting for him to disappear before running after him.

He ran face first into Kar who looked a tad bit angry. "Hey! There you are, who the fuck are you mumbling to? Never mind- get the fuck out here with me now we can get to dinner before Warden Shithead decides to throw you in solitary for taking too long to get there." Dirk nodded, walking with him and seeing the world in a bit… more harsher spectrum of colors. He shook his head, walking with Kar into the dining hall to see Evert sitting with two other trays. Either he'd found the nicest group of prisoners or they wanted him to do something for them. He sat down in front of them, looking at Evert who had a raised eyebrow at the 'chicken' they were eating today. It was gray on the inside and he let out a long sigh through his nose, stirring the mash potatoes they were supposedly eating- or going to eat rather. Dirk was still seeing psychedelic colors for a bit and his heart beat strangely fast for him- he figured it was the emotions he'd just experienced a little while ago. Which the entire experience he was doing a fantastic job of blocking out now he wouldn't burst into tears while he was in front of people.

"Who fucking cooks this shit?" Kar made a face looking at the cookie that wasn't actually cooked at all. "Apparently someone three hundred years old that's blind, deaf, and mute." Dirk muttered quietly with a frown looking at his own plate. He felt like he wanted to puke now but that wasn't from the food. He was seeing the room spin and he felt hotter than he usually did. Then suddenly cold. Dirk blinked slowly before starting to fall back. "Hey-!" He heard Kar saying something before he fell backwards off the chair and onto the ground- starting to seizure.

He could hear bits and pieces after that. He was blacking in and out. At times he was throwing up, other times he was groaning with a damp cloth on his head, other times he was begging for someone somewhere to kill him with the pain ripping through his system. He heard voices from time to time, some were soothing him, some he didn't know while other's he did. Kar spoke at one point, angry and snappy toward someone that he couldn't see, "He just took three hundred milligrams of Adderall because you can't put intelligent people in charge for the medical ward! Of course, he's gonna be fucked up for a bit- you can't make him work like this- He can't even fucking stand!" Evert told him something but it was too quiet for Dirk to hear and there was more yelling. Dirk continued to go in and out of consciousness, wanting to meet with whatever lay beyond the darkness he kept fading into.


	6. Wicked Schemes

When he woke, Dirk didn't move for a good fifteen minutes. His eyes stung, his throat was raw, his lips were dry and he felt numb in every part of his body except for the pulse that he could feel from his heart to his entire body. Hell- he could feel his heartbeat in his toes. His sunglasses were off to the side, as was an old mop bucket that didn't look like it had been used for mopping in sometime… There was water by his bed in a styrofoam cup that he immediately reached for with shaking fingers. Dirk blinked at it, seeing the water quiver inside from how bad he shook. What the hell had happened to him? Of course, his mind already formed the answer that he'd overdosed on the drug he'd taken and was lucky to be alive if he'd really taken three hundred or so milligrams of Adderall. It was usually used for severe ADHD patients and even then most only took ten to thirty milligrams... He was starting to think he was being kept around for a reason as he drank back the water, feeling it run cold down his throat and down into his chest he was so dry. He let out a slow breath, blinking and reaching for his sunglasses. "Looks who is still breathing!" Kar snorted above him, and Dirk looked up to meet his eyes. Reddish brown met Orange and he swallowed. "Barely." Dirk rasped and he shook his head, drinking more water. "Warden Douchebag is going to be out for you. Don't piss him off again will you, then again that may be asking too much. You've been off your work assignment for three days."

"It's not like I didn't have a reason." The one above him rolled his eyes, "Yeah, a shitty reason. Evert and I told you it was a bad idea and what do you do? Take the fucking pills. Real wise. Now I know why you fucking call yourself 413- because you're stupid as-" Dirk sighed angrily, head already pounding. "Jesus fucking Christ why are you such a crabby prick!" He knew in a split second he had said the wrong thing. Kar was out of his top bunk and trying to strangle him in under a second. "CALL ME CRABBY AGAIN, YOU MOTHERFUCKER. I'LL RIP OUT YOUR TONGUE THROUGH YOUR NOOK AND STUFF THOSE STUPID SUNGLASSES-" Dirk wasn't exactly worried about Kar hurting him, but the term of 'nook' didn't go unnoticed. He made him stop with grabbing a hand full of his hair like a mother cat would do her kitten- he had also done it to Karkat in the Game. Kar immediately went still before he dropped him, "Chill out." Dirk muttered and Kar stared at him wide eyed, "How'd you know how to do that?"

He looked up from the cup, momentarily satisfied that Kar wasn't going to strangle him for now, "Most people have sensitive scalps." Dirk covered with a seconds pause, somehow he imagined that Kar would be the least likely person to believe him if he actually told him how he knew. The other seemed to have calmed down before crossing his arms, still looking disgruntled but at least not in the 'shoving things were they weren't meant to go' mode. "It's visitation day tomorrow. You're on the list." Kar told him before exiting quickly from the open door of the cell. The new information took a moment to process. He'd taken the pills on his fourth day- and visitation rights were only granted after one week. That meant he had been out for about three days. Strangely he didn't feel that he was hungry in the slightest. His headache lessened with the sunglasses but not by much. He'd have to somehow prepare for meeting his friends again tomorrow and that… didn't sit well with him.

Dirk didn't want them to see him like this. Thin, pale, near death in a number of areas… but at the same time he didn't want to change either. He blinked slowly at the ground, taking hold of the side of the metal bunk bed and rising slowly. His legs still worked, so he could use that as a small blessing. He rose slowly, wiping his brow of the sweat there. Shower. Then food. No more medication- they clearly were trying to kill him. He walked out of his cell to nearly smack into a guard. He stepped back, eyes wide looking up at him for a moment, nearly going into a fighting stance to defend himself. It was the Warden, two scars across his face identifying him more than anything. Dirk took a step back, not knowing where to look or what to do for a moment; his fight or flight response was momentarily broken. "Look who's awake." His voice was soft, guttural, and sent all the alarms inside Dirk's head off. He knew him now, the Warden was Dualscar… The years they spent in the Game, they fought a number of enemies both from their realities and outside of it. Dualscar had been one of the harshest of enemies. The man took out a rolled up piece of paper and smacked Dirk's cheek with it twice before holding it out to his nose. "This is your work assignment. And since you've decided to take three days off… you're going to work on every day the boys get off. Every. Single. Day. You're not special here, 413. And I'm going to make sure you know that." Dirk glared at him and the Warden smiled, "No one screws with me, 413. No one." Dirk blinked slowly before shrugging, "Maybe you'll meet the right woman and all that will change." He took the paper from him while he was still stammering, fury building in his features.

Before the warden could rip him a new one he hurried toward the cafeteria, slowly after the burst of energy from the wicked burn had worn off. Dirk knew that the time to make friends had surely passed, so he might as well just piss him off for a good laugh. He unfolded the paper as he walked, putting everything behind him for right now that may have clouded his judgment- if he was working more days it would keep him from getting bored at least. He didn't really know what a prison work assignment would be. Maybe cleaning toilets or doing laundry? He frowned, reading over the tiny lettering. "Dirk Strider, representative ID number 413, will report to bus 27 for work assignment." Did that mean he was going to be working on a bus? That wasn't a wise choice, he can fly a hoverboard but cars and buses were something altogether different. He shook his head, about to wrinkling up the paper. A voice stopped him and his eyes went wide, snapping in the direction he heard it. "Jake?" The word was whispered as he went in the same way he was looking. It spoke thousands that simply hearing Jake's voice could inspire him to follow it. He rounded a corner and nearly felt himself deflate and then his heart skipped a few beats.

Jake was on the shitty television mounted to the wall in one of the separate rec rooms filled with chairs. He was in a black suit with an emerald green tie over a black dress shirt and matching green vest. Dirk couldn't do anything but stare and memorize the new things about him. It had been a week and Jake was sporting stubble that no longer made him look like a teenager. Jake's green eyes could be seen even from behind his glasses, being so bright and vibrant that it made Dirk felt a pull in his heart. Jake was tall, strong, grown up, and... Tired? There were lines that the shitty prison television attached to the wall could just barely pick up that the blonde knew by heart. Jake hadn't slept well... Dirk swallowed, worry forming in his chest beside the hurting heart… then anger that he felt like that toward him at all.

He stood at the doorway of the little room where a group of inmates were watching Jake in a debate with a talk show host. He listened but didn't believe what he was hearing entirely. "Mr. English, you've explained the situation to us with this high profile case but I still don't understand your involvement with it. I could understand if Dirk Strider, the one wrongly accused, was starting the 'Justice for Jenna' campaign but why you?" Jake pauses before shrugging, "I think the question is rather 'why not'? This world is full of injustices which all need to be dealt with in due time, granted, but I know that the 'Justice for Jenna' campaign is going to rally the people for a united cause. Perhaps not just stop there, but if enough people behind an idea anything can change." The show host nodded, "And how many followers do you have at this point?" Jake did mental math in his head for a moment before moving his head as he spoke. "Roughly a million if not more. We're growing every day."

There was a low whistle in the audience and the host stippled his hands together, "And what do you hope to accomplish with what you're starting? Nathanial Morris is dead and his brother is in prison- what do you mean 'Justice of Jenna'?" The brunette didn't answer at first before letting out a slow sigh through his nose, "What we're hoping to accomplish is multiple things. One, to have Dirk Strider released from prison. Over one hundred and twenty five missing person cases have been solved because of what Dirk did- a monster was stopped in his tracks and we should do everything in our power to have him set free. This is not just bringing justice to multiple people but giving back the life that Dirk had taken from him. Two, is making sure something like this never happens again with proper reforms with police agencies and three… finding out why all of this happened in the first place. A man like Nathanial Morris doesn't have generations of killers in his family without anyone knowing." The host chuckled, "That's very noble of you to find this all out." Jake shook his head to the negative, "No, I owe them that much."

Dirk didn't know why he had so many emotions in his head at once. He didn't really understand it either. His mind flickered between hatred for Jake and the relief they hadn't forgotten, then a wave of guilt and agony would rush over him. They showed pictures of marchers protesting in front of the courthouse with pickets with '#JusticeForJenna' written on them, or 'Free Strider'. The host went into his gambit, discussing Dirk himself. Recounting the facts from the case and what had supposedly happened after he was kidnapped. Of course, being national television, the more gory parts were skimmed over. Dirk felt sick slightly and was about to turn away when one of the inmates turned to another in the front row of the group of chairs. "Oi, don't the new guy look like that one?" A picture of Dirk and his friend's went on the screen for a moment and Dirk felt the violent urge to rip it down. It was private- he was private- why couldn't he just be left alone?! He left before the other could respond or someone saw him, walking fast down the hallway passing prison cell after prison cell until he spotted a sign that told him the showers were up ahead.

He slid in past the heavy door, knowing that he'd be in for a rude awakening. The showers were communal and not the funniest places to be. Dirk ignored the other naked or recently toweled bodies around him, guards all stood around looking rather bored. He picked a more isolated spot where only a few men were in that row of lockers. It wasn't a particularly big room, but it was large enough to house about thirty people inside it comfortably- with showers at the end and much like the rest of the prison, had no windows to look out of. Dirk stripped his soiled clothing having picked up a new pair on his way into the room from a stack.

A few of the inmates stared at him, just like the guards when he had first came into the prison, noting how abused the skin was and how badly his bones stuck out from starvation. The old scar that wrapped around his neck made most of them do double takes. It was long and white- jagged, not like a tattoo but an actual scar; making many of them think he was a ghost. His pale skin and orange eyes caused a few to back up as he closed the locker- though it had no lock on it in the first place- and headed toward the showers. Stepping into the rain storm cloud that pelted his skin like fiery rain. He hissed at the ferocity of it before settling it onto the back of his neck and washing his hair. He needed it- but tried to remind himself he shouldn't take one of his infinite showers here. It still ended up being roughly forty-five minutes… but what could he say, he needed something to remind him of how he once was. He let out a slow breath stepping out of the shower room and into the locker area. Dirk dressed- the entire room vacant now, his solace was in the silence and he glanced at a mirror to see his hair was all flat. He frowned seeing no reflection behind him for once. That was fine. He wasn't concerned. He… He could hear nothing and he let out a low breath; suddenly needed to hear people. Dirk shoved his glasses and burst out of the room to be met by other voices and immediately settled, breathing more calmly before. He'd nearly had a panic attack on the sole reason he thought he was alone….

He let out a breath, running his hand over his face and shook himself. Dirk immediately jumped, the lunch bell going off and he let out a sigh. He craved other people now… craved people he trusted moreover, but now he couldn't be too close or someone might recognize him. He didn't know how they would react and thus, didn't want to initiate anything. If they were going to find out, he was going to wait until the last possible second he could. He made his way into the line once again, eyes downcast away from the other prisoners who were filling in around him. Kar and Evert were already there at their table, sitting silently besides their rare utterance. Dirk looked at them for a few moments before looking down at his plate. It didn't look the least bit appetizing. "Who cooks this shit?" He muttered under his breath and the twitchy inmate behind him happened to answer in a soft wheeze. "They don't. It's left over's from whatever the guards don't take." Dirk's head inclined upward to look at the man, "The guards take the good food for themselves?" The inmate looked around and whispered through holey teeth, "They have a store room with all of it. Up in the officer's wing. That fucker Jackson has all the keys." Dirk frowned before moving forward in line, away from the man who twitched so hard his drink spilt slightly. He saw down with the two, Evert nodding briefly at him, Kar said nothing but picked at his plate.

"So what's bus 27 supposed to be for?" Kar and Evert both looked up at him in a pause of stabbing and frowning at their food. They looked up at the other before Evert answered him softly, "It's a worker bus. It takes those who are assigned to it, like Kar and I, to loan us out for work to several institutions… it's often brutal work." Kar looked at him through the corner of the eye, "They rent us out to assholes that make us work without food or rest for about four days straight before shoving us back on a bus to come back here. Three days off before they throw us back out there to die of heat stroke and let the vultures have our corpses." Evert frowned, before sighing, "You've been assigned to bus 27?" Dirk nodded before glancing up at the other inmates seated at other tables. "Sounds like Hell." Kar snorted, "You have no idea. But you will. We have to go today." Dirk nodded, looking back at his food. A horrible work assignment… seeing Jake… tomorrow he'd see him in the flesh. But first… he had to survive today.


	7. Soul Of A Man

Dirt kicked up from underneath the spinning bus wheels as they went along the unpaved road. Cold steel hung heavily around his wrists and ankles while Dirk did the only thing he could do in this situation- stare out of the prison bus' window. There wasn't honestly much to see out there- besides oil rigs and left to die farm land that saw too much sun and not enough rain. It hadn't taken long in all honesty to chain each prisoner together, prod them onto bus 27 and send them off into the lands were the mafia often buried their dead to not be found again. The dust that was being kicked up from the sandy road made a film grain across the window, only allowing minimum visibility. His eyes, squinted even now, from the harshness of the sun streaming into the window. Kar sat not too far ahead of him, while Evert sat horizontally behind him. They passed several other prisoners, those he assumed had been the first few trips on bus 27 or perhaps another cell block all together from the different color jumpers. He let out a slow breath, feeling the grate in his throat from what particles wormed their way inside through the buses small holes in its metal skeleton.

The prisoners they passed were working hard digging for silo supports or building, some were tilling the land and others were harvesting as best they could. Dirk watched each they passed until they crossed the eyesight of one who was staring straight ahead into the sun. His eyes fell on him first- almost catching sight of him in slow motion- before he was gone. The prisoner's eyes were sunken and there were three long scratches on his cheek, and Dirk had to do a double take before the other was gone. Long left behind in the dust cloud; though he could swear that they had been staring straight into each other's eyes for a moment. A brief, incomprehensible understanding and knowledge of each other's presence on some… strange level. Dirk swallowed, feeling the same stone settle in the bottom of his gut before looking away from the window. He already had enough on his plate than some prisoner who was half crazed by sunstroke. His orange eyes focused forward on the guards with shotguns, one being in the front beside the driver and the other in the back.

Dirk looked down at his feet then, not wanting to look at anyone too long to make him think he was trying to start something. The inmate behind him had a nasty bruise from doing that early on in the ride. If you stared too long, they would make you unable to stare at them again. There was something sobering in that, he imagined. He let himself continue to breath slowly, pretend that he was unaware of what was going to happen to him shortly… and truly, he really didn't know. Kar and Evert had been extremely vague in what they were going to put Dirk through and he didn't know whether to be grateful for not having fear on the edge of his mind going into this… or fearful of the unknown itself. In mere minutes he was sure to find out. Though as he thought this, the bus wheels started to grind to a stop, bus shaking and sputtering with the mildly rough terrain. "Look alive, ladies! Time to get off your asses and work for a living!" They were ushered up from their positions via two to a seat and made to stand in a line going off the bus. The sun immediately hit him and he could have sworn that his skin sizzled underneath it. Of course, he was nowhere near as pale as Roxy was… but he was still very close to cue ball color.

He stepped out and guards shut and locked the bus door behind the last person. They had their cuffs unlocked from their wrists and ankles and the Warden looked down at them all. He stood between the inmate who had told him the guards stole food from the inmates and another who was twice his size. Dirk's eyes glanced around a bit more wildly than they should have, more out of the desire to memorize his surroundings now he wouldn't feel so… exposed. The Warden tapped his cowboy boots on the sand, chewing something in his mouth before spitting it out on the ground. It was probably the grossest thing he knew; people spitting tobacco chew on the ground. At least smoking a cigarette looked a _little _dignified versus just hacking a wad on the ground. The man's voice drew Dirk out of his thought's, "Welcome to El Desierto. Where you ladies will be spending the next twelve hours doing whatever tasks that the owner of this property wishes. You all know the drill but for our new comers today..." His wicked, almost sharp, grin formed looking at Dirk through his sunglasses, "I'll explain the rules." He walked around. "We aren't within establishments walls anymore! So there are no rules!" The Warden shouted as they were circled by men with shotguns. Dirk felt very… very, exposed.

"If you try to run?" He asked rhetorically and pointed to his left, "There is a town, about a hundred and fifty miles to your right!" His arm went the other direction, "And that way is about a river two hundred miles. Back behind you is a good seventy mile walk back home and in front of you is a cliff. All of these directions are void of water, food, shade, and covered with every poisoness son of a bitch creature you'll ever meet. So… We will not come after you. We will not remember you. Go! Shoo!" He was still grinning, "We won't even come to pick up the body. One person has tried that journey before. And we found his bones on a hike a couple years later." Dirk swallowed, throat already feeling raw from the lack of water. The Warden chuckled at their joint looks. "We do have the right though, if you fuck around, or start trouble, or not listen… to shoot you and let you bleed out. We have no rules here." He nodded, "Go see the owner for your work duties and we'll come pick you all up when your day is done. Except you, 413, who is gonna stay here and work until your fingers and toes bleed."

Dirk looked up at him, lips sealed shut with a glance from Evert and Kar toward him, otherwise, no one stood up for him. No one would. He didn't lower his head though, he had done enough of that under the shadow of Nathanial. They were forced to walk, the Warden waving goodbye to them as they left before climbing back on the bus where there was air conditioning. Dirk followed in the group as some started to dig pylons for the oil rigs or sickles for the crops. Either way, the group was split in half to do their shares of the work. As they did, Kar grabbed him around the bicep and took him into the line for the crops since he was still standing in the line they were first in. "Leave you alone for fifteen minutes and the Warden fucking gives you overage days." He murmured, pushing a sickle into his hand and a cloth. "What's this for?" He asked softly, trying not to draw attention to them since Kar had been whispering to him. "For when your hands bleed." Evert murmured beside him; how the larger man moved around so quietly he would never know. He picked up a basket and same items Kar had just handed to him before gesturing to Dirk for him to follow.

They went out into the fields, where crops stretched for miles. There was a 'shitty' irrigation system that broke half the time and made them work in the mud. Dirk didn't waste his time trying to figure out why it didn't work or why the lines were broken on some of the attachments. The men with shotguns regularly patrolled, and he didn't dare make them angry. A lot of the inmates complained about their feet having fungus when it let loose for a second time before another hour was up. Chopping down plants wasn't the hard part strangely enough; it was dealing with the heat. The water issues (both drinking and mud) and the fact that Dirk was so sunburnt by the time the next hour rolled by that Kar was thinking about holding him underneath a corn stalk. "Who gets this fucking pale?" He asked under his breath, shaking his head at Dirk's now cherry red skin- it was peeling horribly.

Kar's own was tanned, like he had been doing this long enough to get one. Meanwhile, Evert had the skin tone that claimed he had been in sunshine much more than either of them had. Dirk didn't think it could get much worse by the time the sun was directly over their heads. Two inmates had fainted already. He swallowed against dry, cracked lips that were slightly parted to breath in the boiling air. Dirk felt like he was being cooked alive in his own skin and leaned up, back popping with the movement he had been bent over so long. He felt a weight being pushed onto his head and he looked up to see Evert had put a baseball cap on his head. Dirk blinked tiredly, wavering where he was standing, the other man looked down at him for a moment before letting go of the edge. He looked up at it, seeing it was orange in color to match his jumpsuit. Ironic.

"Thank you." He said softly and Evert shrugged, putting the stocks they were cutting from the plants in his basket. "Orange is more your color than mine." He cut the next stalk, the cloths wrapped around his hands. Dirk looked at his own that weren't thankfully raw yet from the sickle. It wasn't a sword, but he had built up enough strength in his hands to withstand something like this. He went back to cutting, not removing the baseball cap from his head. It gave him a little relief from the star above him. Kar swore at times, but kept uncharacteristically silent as he worked. Guards would wander past, smoking their cigarettes and checking their shotguns. They would make the offhanded remark at times telling them to hurry or there were still thousands more to cut down. Dirk said nothing, nor did the two inmates he found himself working between. It was strange to almost feel a kinship between the men by his side. Even if they were convicts, or hell, trolls at one point. It didn't seem to matter now as the sun kept making its way across the sky until it was nearly sunset. The guards came for them… all except 413.

Kar looked back at him as he boarded the bus and the guard that remained kept a shotgun trained on Dirk. He tried to offer a small smile, but it didn't come. He was ushered toward other workers who had apparently pissed off their own Wardens and told to start working. Dirk looked up at the large oil silo, the piston moving rapidly as men either wielded, tossed coal into flames, built more, or dug for the pillars to hold them up would be deeper. The end of a shotgun was pushed into his back and he started forward, the sun setting and flood lights were turned on. He took off his upper jumper with a hiss, wrapping it around his waist as he grabbed a wielding tool and started to climb- like all the inmates, up the pylons holding up the giant make-shift oil rig to stabilize the piston pumping oil out of the ground. It made him curious, when he wasn't too tired to think, who would have oil rigs that were one, as shitty as these were, and two, would hire inmates to do their dirty work. He supposed prison labor was cheaper but… there was a point where someone should draw the line between the work of experts and the work of a criminal. His own thought made him pause for once. Was that what he was now? A criminal being used as cheap labor?

He frowned hard, straddling the beam as he made sure another bolt didn't raddle it's way loose and kill everyone above him. It sobered his raging thoughts… Along with the idea that he wasn't going to get a chance to really explore that train of thought for long. Dirk had been working so long at this point that the minutes had gelled together and in the distance, he saw a bus coming toward the group of inmates that had done the overnight work. None of them had spoken to each other- a form of solitary he supposed. No one talked, so no would stop being productive. The bus screeched to a stop from old breaks as he wandered over and stood in line with the rest. Kar and Evert looked him over. The sunglasses, orange ball cap, black tank-top with orange over-alls tied tightly around his waist. The sunburn on his shoulders and bleeding hands. For a moment it was the oddest thing, like they knew him before, as they saw the Warden step off the bus and looked straight into Dirk's eyes. "Look who decided to stay here! I guess he thought he couldn't run as fast as his mouth." There was a half second that Dirk wondered if he should let it go before sighing out, "I would tell you to go fuck yourself but I'm pretty sure you'd be disappointed." The other inmate's mouths dropped while Kar grinned like he'd won the lottery. Evert groaned with a soft utterance of, "Foolishness."


	8. Between The Bars

Jake's fingers had started to tap a drumline's entire song by the time Dirk came walking out of the steel doors to the visitation room. There would be a pane of glass between them and only phones to hear the other… but at least he could see him. It had been one hell of a two week distance. After just getting him back, to take Dirk away again was… painful, to say the least. The first time Jake had come for a visit, the Warden had refused him entrance into the building entirely. Of course, Jake had nearly strangled the man moments later but it took a fair amount of calming from Jane and Roxy to simply go back to the car. He'd also been informed by the Warden that they would only allow one visitor at a time. Jake knew that was a lie as he looked around the room to see entire families talking with inmates. Or perhaps the Warden thought so badly of them or Dirk that they had only cleared one person at a time… It was sad in a way, to see how many people were put into this place and how their expressions looked like they were suffering.

Jake swallowed and looked down at his nails, suddenly nervous. He hoped Dirk had been eating- sleeping at least. At the hospital, Dirk would wake up screaming sometimes with either a fever or a night terror. He would try to remove himself from the room entirely, either by pulling out his IVs or by simply ripping them out in a mad dash toward the door. They had locked it before to keep out irritating nurses and people who wanted the 'true' story from Dirk; but after Dirk had nearly clawed his way through the door, they stopped locking it entirely. Jake shook his head to get the image of Dirk in the fetal position in the hospital room, pushed against the corner of the room with bloody fingernails, whispering to the shadows to keep away from him; Dirk obviously still thought he was trapped in the room Morris had imprisoned him again. It worried Jake more to picture him doing that here, trapped in a room without any way out. It had been probably the hardest moment since rescuing Dirk in the first place.

The door opened at the end of the hallway behind the glass and Dirk was pushed through. Jake nearly shot out of his seat seeing him. Dirk had his head held high, face bruised and burnt from a harsh amount of sun, both ankles and wrists were cuffed with the pair on his feet only having enough chain to move. Jake wanted to screech at them to let him go- none of the other inmates had been brought in that way- at most cuffs- but he knew he would have been asked to leave and he _needed _to check on Dirk. Jake stared at Dirk through the glass when he was finally forced into the seat, eyes wide as tennis balls. There was a phone for them to talk through that was attached to dull gray walls that matched the floor that could have once been white tile. Nothing too special, and definitely nothing that would murder a prison's budget. The guards all wore heavy vests and carried shotguns or multiple handguns- especially the one's behind Dirk that were retreating back to the door. The security there was over anyone's head. Jake took mental notes to tell Jane and Roxy later, though seeing Dirk like this… he wondered if he should lie. He was supposed that they could use this later on when filing the appeal with the Supreme Court. Vincent was working overnights with them to build a stronger case before the trial was going to take place. Seeing Dirk across from him… all rational thought was thrown out the window.

Dirk looked like he had been cooked, beaten and starved, which was a lot worse than he pictured him when he finally saw him again. The blond had a new orange hat, sunglasses that weren't like his old pair but more aviator like, his skin around it and on his exposed arms were sunburnt it nearly looked like he had actual burns on him. He was thin, to the point he could count every rib underneath his black tank top. His face was unemotional- like before they had gotten together. There was tension in his muscles though, showing that he had been wary of this meeting as much as Jake have been. Jake caught sight of the cut on his lip that he'd been hit recently. His noise also looked like it had been hit.

Finally he reached for the phone and took it off the hook, ignoring the yuck that built up in the plastic parts. Dirk seemed to have been waiting for him to do the same and immediately leaned forward a second later to take his end of the line. It crackled terribly but he could hear him breathing- and that was probably the best thing about it. "Are you alright?" Was the first thing that came tumbling out of Jake's half opened mouth, he was leaning so far toward him that his knuckles were pressed against the glass from where his fist was on the table. Dirk raised an eyebrow at him and raddled the cuff's chains. "Well I've been better, but they have great fashion sense here. I've never had so much bling in my life." Jake had a flicker of a smile. If Dirk could be sarcastic he wasn't completely gone then.

"I'll take that as a 'surviving'." He sighed, "Vincent and the girls are working hard to find any kind of loophole to get you out of here sooner." There was a quiet pause between them before Dirk shrugged, "Yeah… saw you on the television the other day. The suit was nice." Jake blinked before realizing he meant the last interview. He'd recently been on a lot of television shows discussing Dirk and the Morris case. He'd met a lot of opposition but it wasn't going to make him stop by any means. "Oh that, yes, Roxy has quite the fashion sense as well. She designed it for me." Dirk looked up at him from where he was staring at the floor as Jake rattled on. "Where are the girls?" Jake swallowed, licking his lips, if he told him that the Warden had refused them to come he might retaliate and that was the last thing any of them needed. "They had me go ahead and come. You're… only allowed one visitor at a time since its maximum security. They barely let me through the door with my keys." Dirk was frowning at him, cocking his head to the side again like he was examining him. Dirk always could tell when he was lying… but apparently this time he let it slide. Jake didn't know if it was the setting or something else, but he felt very… on edge, with this Dirk. It was the man he loved in front of him, but it… it was different.

"Everything okay at home?" Dirk asked suddenly, like he had a question underneath his question. Jake frowned, "Yes… and no. It isn't really home without you. Jane's been keeping everything up in your apartment but I've made sure your part piles haven't gone astray." He shrugged, "Dirk… I know it must be hard in here but just… hold on a little longer. We're doing the best we can to get you out-" He was ran over by Dirk, "Why did you call it 'Justice for Jenna'?" Jake paused, his words forgotten to make room for Dirk's question, he shrugged, "It seemed like the right thing to do. After your trial and how close you were to her." Dirk nodded and a guard started to call for them to wrap things up. Jake winced, "I'll come back and see you as soon as possible. Roxy will come by next and Jane after her. I… I know what you said before about us being together but I don't care. Well, I do, but, you're still… still important to me. Even if you don't want what we had back-" Dirk shook his head while pulling away to lean back in his chair, "Jake, please stop."

Jake swallowed, green eyes searching the covered one's in front of him. He shut his eyes briefly, leaning back as well. "I'm sorry. I know what you said." He whispered and Dirk frowned now, "I have my reasons." Jake nodded, "I… I know you do. They're legitimate reasons as well. You've been through so much and I'm… I'm probably not helping it." Dirk shook his head, "It's not for what happened at the bar. There are other reasons." The other looked up at him, not understanding, "What do you mean?" The guards clearly weren't as focused on wrapping up at they had been a moment ago as one started texting. "I can't tell you. You wouldn't believe me if I did." Jake snorted, "Try me. You told me you were from the future once and you see how well that went over."

Dirk flickered a smile then but it disappeared so fast that Jake wasn't sure he saw it at all. Perhaps he'd just twitched. "Still." Jake sighed as the guards started walking around again. Why did Dirk have to do that and be so vague? He'd always been like that but when it came to something that was this bloody important? If there was a reason besides his own utter stupidity that was making Dirk not want to be with him, he deserved to know didn't he? "Alright… Fine, I won't push but you can't say those sorts of things and then not explain. The guards are getting antsy so I'll go." He stood up to go and Dirk looked mildly panicked. "Jake, wait!" The blond sounded so desperate that Jake stopped in his tracks, turning back to him with the phone still in hand- having not gone farther than to stand yet.

Dirk swallowed, "I have to tell you something before you go." Jake sighed, running a hand over his face, sitting back down. The way he had said that made him… wary, for some reason. "What is it?" Dirk leaned across the table, "We need to stay apart. There is something going on here. Just… keep Roxy and Jane away." Jake looked like he was about to argue when Dirk shook his head, "You have to trust me. The trolls are here. Karkat- Equius- even Dualscar. They're here and the Game has glitched out." He worked his mouth, watching Jake's expression change slowly from worry to pain. "I don't have any proof and I can't get any here. Just… trust me. Keep them safe." He wasn't going to tell Jake about this… but… the warnings had gone off in his brain that he had to tell the other before something happened. And if nothing happened, Dirk knew they would just think he was crazy and keep him here like he deserved. Jake slowly blinked at him, a sadness settling in his eyes. "Dirk… the game is over. There is no way they are here. Let alone in jail with you." His voice dropped into a whisper, "Are you taking your medication?"

Dirk hissed through his teeth. Of course he hadn't been taking his medication- was Jake stupid to what went on in prisons? Jake shook his head, "I can bring that up in court to see if we can get you at least less security. They look like they're ready to kill prisoners here." Jake swallowed, "I know it's hard-." He didn't know why Jake saying that he knew anything about his situation pissed Dirk off, but god did it. "Don't give me that. I can't get a damn piece of medication unless I fucking kill the guy giving them out and take his place before he kills me." He shook his head, Dirk fixed his gaze on him again. Jake frowned, "Killing people? What the Hell, Dirk! You're supposed to be behaving while we work on getting you out!"

Dirk nearly snarled at the other, "Dammit Jake, just listen to what I'm saying! Either keep the girls safe or leave me here- find out who was behind the judge who made the decision to put me here. Find the one pulling the strings. If you find him or her, you'll find why Nathanial kidnapped me and why the trolls are here in the first place!" Jake shook his head, the expression on his face distraught, "Dirk… you were there, the game is _gone._" Dirk made a sound in his throat like he was exasperated, "No- No- That's what I thought- Jake-!" Jake rose and shook his head. "No, Dirk! The game is over and we're not blaming our problems on that! It's no excuse!" Dirk blinked up at him before shaking his head, venom in his eyes. "Fine. Go on believing that this was all just one big misfortune while the world crumbles around you. Be Oblivious. It's what you're fucking good at." Jake opened his mouth to say something but shut it, turning away from him, slamming the phone down on the receiver.

Dirk stared at him as he left out the door. The guards took no notice of him as he didn't put the receiver down on his end. He wished he would walk back in but know Jake was already in his car, driving past the speed limit back home or the next meeting. His mouth was a thin line and he let out a long sigh through his nose. There was another crackle in his phone and he heard voices that made him pause in the moment to put the receiver back on the hook. His eyes lowered slightly, recognizing one of the voices but not the others. Evert was having visitation with someone- a female. "How's he doing?" The female asked softly, a slight accent to her voice. "As well as one can be." There was a sigh, "I hope Thad is a bit easy on him. I know how bad it affects him being locked up in here. Thaddeus still leaves flowers for Solomon every day too. It's a little hard now that he's in a wheelchair but we manage." There was silence from Evert's end so she continued, "Victoria is constantly being a pain too… I wish you were at the house still." Evert sighed, "I'm better off here, Nadine." The girl, who Dirk assumed was Nadine sniffed, "I don't know how you can say that- you don't even belong here. You protected us both from that… him." She sounded like she was shaking her head from the movement against the phone, "You protected us. So did Kar. What happened to Solomon- it was an accident, a pure and complete accident. I wish you'd stop blaming yourself-." Evert interrupted her, "I don't blame myself. What happened to Solomon was unavoidable. Someone was going to die that night and it happened to be him."

Nadine shook her head, "What are you saying? Solomon didn't need to die, no one did. He started this… wait… is this about that stupid tribal law you are trying to uphold still? Evert, we were annexed from the tribe; we don't belong under their rules." Evert sighed, "Don't raise your voice; there are other's that can hear you. I attacked the man who let us into his home on good faith. The law states that I will not attack another man on the grounds of his home and I did that. By all circumstances I belong in he-!" Nadine interrupted him now, "Dammit Evert, you were protecting _me_! Doesn't that matter to you anymore? Or are you so caught up in tribal law made by people who don't exist anymore that you're missing that fact that there are _real _people outside these walls that _need _you _now." _Evert was silent for a while and Nadine sniffed again, like she had been crying. "Gabriel didn't even made the decision for us to be in that house. Kar did. So if you're so hell bent on protecting someone then you should worry about Kar. All Gabriel did was get Solomon killed and nearly kill Thaddeus. Now that Victoria keeps coming around to rub the whole damn thing in. I wish you'd just tell the truth and stop this… I need you, Evert. And not in here." Dirk swallowed before hanging up the phone as gently as he possibly could. He had no idea why he had listened in on their conversation… just because, he supposed. Which still wasn't a good reason.

He got up from the chair, still shuffling in the shackles that the Warden had put him in because he had pissed him off a week ago. Today was his last week of punishment. With both overnights and the metal bonds. Kar had tried to pick the lock to give him some relief, but it had ended with him swearing. Of course, Evert had refused to help because of Dirk's 'willful involvement with foolishness'. He walked past a silent Evert watching Nadine cry. Dirk knew who they were and it was… strange, and painful, walking past who he knew were Equius and Nepeta. She looked similar to what she used to, with similar skin tone to Evert and black hair that was cut short. A green jacket rested on her shoulder's, and she had a small cat charm on her necklace that was blue. He was headed toward the door when he caught sight of Kar listening to a man in a wheelchair, who he assumed was Thaddeus. Kar nodded at times, but kept the frown on his face, brows furrowed together in concern. Thaddeus kept smiling, talking about something that might have been more happy than not to make Kar feel better. If the meeting with Jake hadn't depressed him enough, watching those two lost in their own worlds made it worse. The guards escorted him back through the halls to his cell and finally unchained him. He watched his brother walk by the cell's door one last time in almost slow motion. He knew there was finality to his walk and he let out a low breath. "_See you later, bro."_


	9. Remember The Name

Dirk jerked awake, still hyperventilating from his nightmare. His eyes blinked wildly around the room- making sure he wasn't in the cell again. His skin felt like it was crawling so he immediately brushed the imaginary spiders away. Nathanial haunted his dreams as much as a pair of eyes did now. The eyes… they watched him from the ceiling of the dark cell he'd been kept prisoner in a few months ago. His own shut, then reopened, making sure the pair in the nightmare wouldn't suddenly reappear when he wasn't looking. They were pink- hatred and murder all wrapped in one gaze- slits that burnt things into his skull that he didn't know existed or… or had never experienced. Like he was reliving someone else's life in his own mind; tings that he had never lived through but had a feeling he knew who did. Splashes of blood on a wall that that contained all different colors and scared, screaming faces haunted him in every sleeping moment. Dirk brushed a hand over his face and then into his hair, slipping on his sunglasses as morning came.

He let out a breath that was caught in his chest, brushing the sweat off his brow as well. The eyes were the worst… because of how they made him feel inside his chest. Like he was small and insignificant… that he would be crushed soon without a single… single thought otherwise. It made his heart race and hope flee from his heart as he'd stare back into them knowing that all hope was lost. There were thousands of whispers in the dream- things he had said, what had been said to him- some phrases he'd never heard before… Some were shouting and some were whispering but yet he could hear them all- like a hundred thousand souls were trying to talk to him at once. The dream was always the same… and it was slowly starting to swallow him whole- it wrapped around him like ropes and poured down his throat like ink… He shook his head, composing himself to try to rid himself of the fear that clung to him like mist on a lake.

"Bad dream?" Kar asked from above and he looked up to see him half hanging over the bed. His face was looking at him, arm swinging very slowly where it dangled. Dirk didn't see the point in lying, "Yeah." His voice was soft, finding his eyes to focus on the desert outside the barred windows in front of their cell. There was silence between them before Kar sighed, "You'll get used to them." Dirk looked up at him but didn't reply when Kar fixed his gaze on him, "Wanna talk about it?" The blond shook his head to the negative. "It's… a lot of personal shit. I'll work through it." Kar shrugged, before rolling back over. "Go back to sleep then. Another two hours before they decide to wake us up. It's Sunday." Dirk nodded, though Kar didn't see it. "Why are you awake then?" He meant it rhetorically but Kar answered anyway, "You talk in your sleep." The man on the bottom bunk froze and stared at the names carved into the steel bedding. "Seems like Jake is a really important guy." Another pregnant pause filled the silence and Dirk shut his eyes. There was a mix of anger at himself for letting someone hear him in his sleep, versus the fear of how much Kar had heard. Dirk shut his eyes tightly, hugging his pillow tightly to his chest. It hurt to think of Jake and the other's… it fucking hurt. "Not anymore." He whispered and Kar never replied.

By the time morning came, Dirk was more tired than he had been before. He rose from his bed, shuffled through the masses toward the mess hall were a small group was laughing loudly. They looked like other prisoner's from a different cellblock. He frowned, looking toward them but didn't ask why they were there- none of his business in his opinion. He didn't know whether he enjoyed the lack of hallucinations or it made him feel lonely by this point- like hell he was going to try to come out of his shell either It had been a few days since he'd last seen his older brother or any other image of a loved one crop into his mind. The work was hard on the fields, but at least he was coming back in with the other inmates by this point. He supposed he should count the small blessings about now. No need to fuck them up.

He grabbed a tray and turned his head yet again to look at the baby blue suited inmates who were nodding and one was beatboxing. The line didn't move fast and he sat down with Evert and Kar in his usual place. He was one of the lucky few of the new inmates that hadn't just been shoved on the floor to eat. Counting his blessings was something he was going to have to learn how to do more often in this place. Kar was looking with distain at the group as well. "Great, the shitty rappers are back." He muttered darkly and Dirk looked up, "The who what?" Evert gestured with his head slightly tilted toward the group of men. "From Cell Block B. Supposed to raise moral by going to each cellblock once a month to rap." Kar snorted, "More like shitty poetry." Dirk watched them stand on the table and start to beatbox more, then set up a mic. Kar boo'ed for moment and went silent as the mic screeched for a moment. "How ya'll do'in?" There were two men, one that could be three times the other one's size. The table bent under his weight and no one replied. "Come on- ya'll can speak!" There was united roar of slurs or actual answers. The man- that Dirk could see now had silver grills in the front of his teeth- "Good! So I got some rhymes to lay on ya-! Ya'll ain't got that rap for a raptor's claw and a thunda clap ain't got not'in on that, am I right?" Dirk made a face.

It continued and after a few moments Evert had bent the metal spoon completely over and Kar was slamming his head into the table. Dirk stared as the other inmates looked either annoyed or about ready to shank them. He didn't know what possessed him but he stood up and sauntered over in front of the table. The two slowly stopped their horrid attempt at rhyming. "And what you want, fool?" Dirk cocked his head to the side, "How about you shut the fuck up and let someone who can rap take your day job." They looked at each other, "Who- you, white boy?" Dirk frowned, "Bitch think he can rap!" They laughed and got off, shoving the mic at him. "Go ahead, white boy! Rap!" Dirk took the mic in his hand, frown still on his face and climbed the table. "Don't break a leg on the climb." The other sneered, looking at how thin he was. Dirk stood there for a moment and glanced at the room who either were about to laugh or were anxious. Dirk pursed his lips, looking down at the blue table. "Ohh- white boy gonna cry?" One of them made the action of rubbing their eyes and Dirk sighed. "Yo Kar- give me a beat." Kar looked at him like he was stupid before Dirk gestured for him to hurry.

He rolled his eyes before beating on the table in a slow tempo with his fist. Dirk nodded and started stomping with the back of his heel to make it louder. Soon the beat kicked up throughout the room and Kar stopped, watching the other inmates either stomp or clap. It created a great effect and one that he needed. The two idiots who he couldn't bear to call rappers in his mind went silent.

_"You want me to rhyme_

_Let's see if I've got some spare time-_

_This shit's about to form into a line._

_Everybody wants a piece of me- I'm almost a victimless crime-_

_Hereby stricken by a world decree, building sick fires of a third degree,_

_Laying beats that we all can agree that will get all ya'll lost at sea!_

_You want it? _

_Yeah- _

_You want it?!_

_Holy shit, ya'll gonna need a new set of needles to loosely knit all this wit into a new fabric of time to figure out this rhyme._

_This beats yet to ignite to sit tight,_

_Don't strife, Don't fight- Cause I'm gonna blow you're fuck'in mind tonight._

_I'm gonna make you see what it means when you fuck with me- Tears will stream, blades will bleed, and hearts will tare at the seams!_

_Denizens will cry and scream, beg and plead, but there's no stop'in me. On your knees, cause the Prince of Heart is here to seize the night and do just what he please."_

By the time Dirk quit with the crowd he had going, it was near lunch time and some of the guards were listening and nodding their heads. He finished up his lyrical masterpiece before dropping his mic and stepping off the table, he had shouts and roars of approval from the inmates in the room. Kar was at his side, asking him were the fuck he learned how to do what he'd just done. He walked back to his cell with Evert and Kar by his side with a crowd following behind them. They seemed to truly take to him, trying to repeat some of the best lines he had spoken throughout their experience. Dirk would only smile and nod at times, correcting or laughing at their own attempts in good nature. In the time it took to have the session, he had suddenly become a novelty. He waved them on before he slipped inside the locker rooms. They went on, nearly carrying Kar away to talk to him about where he got the idea for the beat. Dirk put his back against the door, laughing softly to himself.

That had probably been the most fun he'd had since… since… he couldn't remember. He wasn't happy with his friends unless he was with Jake. He was the exact opposite of that since he'd been kidnapped. Dirk rubbed his face with his hands, letting out a breath. He felt physically drained from being out in front of all those people. He had a headache too- but that was more from lack of medication than the issue of the massive groups of inmates screaming their acceptance of him; which he was happy with that a hell of a lot more than the alternative. Dirk hit the light switch on the side of the wall and let the darkness settle around him for a moment. There was a little light at the end of the locker room that belonged to a half broken fire alarm. He took off his sunglasses and rested there for a few minutes hearing the footsteps slowly die out on the other side of the door.

Dirk took a deep breath before putting the glasses back on and peeking out of the door. His eyes flickered both ways before stepping out into the still lit hallway. The windows lining it were barred, but it still offered plenty of light in the corridor that was lined with them. He began walking back to his cell once again without all the monotony of having a crowd follow him. His hands went into his pockets as he walked, relishing in the quiet for a bit longer. Of course there were people, but none of them really seemed to be concerned nor talking to him directly anymore. He passed an air vent and nearly jumped out of his skin as someone blew in his ear. Dirk jerked away from it to see a pair of eyes looking back at him. If he didn't have enough of a horror story for a life, seeing a pair of purple eyes looking into his was probably enough to give him more nightmares. "Hey friend… heard you rapping… your sound motherfucking good when you get going. That lyrical rhyme was so fuck sick it shined…"

The blond worked his mouth before clearing his throat, "Uh… thanks… I've never been thanked from a vent before." The other inmate- or at least he hoped the guards hadn't gotten that crazy yet- blinked before laughing. "It's cool, bro… it's all good." Dirk kept his facial expression passive, "Are you stuck or something?" _Why the fuck are you in a vent? _The other shook his head, "A motherfucker can get out of anywhere he got himself into so it's cool." If Dirk wasn't a smarter person, he'd guess the inmate in the vent was so high he needed permission to land. "Saw you on the fields. You work motherfuck'in hard… I'm Gabriel by the way." A hand came from underneath the vent door and Dirk's eyebrows nearly shot off his face. "413." He replied softly, taking the hand after a brief moment of letting it hang there. He didn't see Gabriel's face still and adjusted his hat out of unease. "Nah man, you ain't nothing like a number. You're like royalty. What you motherfucking called yourself back there… Prince of Heart…. That's what you are. Truly." Dirk stiffened, he had technically called himself that…

"I'm no Prince." Gabriel chuckled and it echoed down the vent, "Neither am I but we're a lot a like I think. Never know- our chance meet'in may be another one of those motherfuck'in miracles." Dirk immediately recognized the voice and the wordage. _Gamzee. _He swallowed, looking at the purple eyes. "Maybe. What cell block are you?" He asked, wondering if he was with them and they just hadn't crossed paths yet. He'd certainly never ventured into the vents. Gabriel hummed to himself until he was ready to answer the question, "Well Prince, it's been nice talking to ya, but I gotta go and unleash some miracles..." Dirk blinked and the eyes were gone. He took several steps away from the vent before quietly whispering to himself, "What the ever fucking hell is going on…"


End file.
